


A Touch of Silver and Green

by snarkyslytherin96



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Luna Lovegood, Brother-Sister Relationships, Cussing, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Falling In Love, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Secrets, Strong Violence, Substance Abuse, War, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), star crossed lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyslytherin96/pseuds/snarkyslytherin96
Summary: My father is a master of the Imperious curse. My friends are being scouted by Death Eaters. My brother is confused, while my best friend is obsessed with him. Oh and my mother thinks I should be dating Theodore Nott, who professed his love for me.None of them can know I'm in love with the Boy Who Lived.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Malfoy Family & Severus Snape
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Touch of Silver and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything. Storyline is mine though.

**Malfoy Manor, May 1998.**

Three prisoners are hauled into the parlor without dignity. Those who are here gather around, sneering at the limp bodies on the cold floor. The dark haired one rouses, pathetically, shuddering. The brunette is silent, tearing welling up in her eyes as she gazes at the redhead longingly.

Because I know the raven-haired prisoner, I’m sure he’s observing the area, taking in his surroundings. He won’t find an exit.

The young trio will see that there are four large, dark figures surrounding them, wands pointed at their throats and hearts. Perhaps he has not yet noticed me, watching, shrinking behind his jailers.

The tallest figure gives the lying prisoner a sharp kick with his boot into his side. The redhead curses filthily while the girl whimpers when Aunt Bella walks closer.

“State your name, bastard,” he snarls. “Now! Do not stay silent in the presence of the servants of the Dark Lord!”

Slowly, the prisoner raises his head. It is hard to tell who he is from the first look of him. His face has been cursed from a stinging hex that the brunette had probably murmured before they came in. Yet his stare is frighteningly green and defiant. He glares back at his tall aggressor with nil fear.

Greyback growls from a place low within his throat. He acts like he’s better than the snatchers – he’s the one who’s a beast. My mouth sours at the notion.

“What’s your blood status, boy?” he murmurs, skimming his long nails through the hostage's messy, dark hair. I sicken when I see it is matted with blood. I don’t dare to look at the other two.

“Are you… a blood traitor?” Greyback inhales deeply. “A Mudblood like that girl?” Face inches from his prey’s, the werewolf grins creepily. “Ah, the snatchers have caught us a half blood.”

The three other figures smirk little, shrewd grins.

“Hogwarts age,” they murmur. “Maybe seventeen. Perhaps he is... _him_.”

“Luna.”

I startle as Dolohov beckons me forward with a jerk of his wand-arm. His gaze never leaves the prisoner’s face, nor Greyback’s bared teeth. Bellatrix has the girl in her arms, cooing in her ear. I can see her trembles as I walk to my godfather’s side.

“Do you recognize him? Is he Harry Potter?”

“No,” I whisper softly. “No, I don’t recognize him. It’s not Potter, sir.”

The prisoner, desperately trying to avoid Greyback’s amber stare, looks past him and straight at me. For a moment, I register the sorrow and confusion on his face, then I quickly lower my eyes. A sense of inevitability, of powerlessness makes my stomach go low – for both of us. This is the end; I think to myself.

I wonder if he completely hates me now.

I look around at the other figures in the room. Rosier has his mahogany wand pointed so menacingly at the redhead on the floor, that same wand which made fireworks rain out on my birthday. Nott Sr., whose son, was one of my brother’s best friends. Dolohov, my loving godfather, who would scoop me up and bounce me on his knee when I was a child, praising me for my intelligence, telling me I was a true symbol of what it meant to be a pureblood witch.

They are challenging men. Honorable, but ruthless. Men who have murdered and will kill again without pause for their cause.

 _Fight them_ , I beg. _Please_.

For if they know what he is thinking, he will die today. If they knew, they would kill him, these men, friends of my father, champions of my childhood. Were my father here, he wouldn't hesitate to make my brother cast the curse himself.

These are bleak times when friend turns on friend and nobody is safe.

Not even the daughter of Lucius Malfoy. 


End file.
